Dry
by Lipstick Stain
Summary: His cup wasn't half-full, or half-empty. It was dry. Oneshot.


**Dry.**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Warning: **None. Slightly angsty, but nothing big.

**Author's Note: **I wrote this quickly, and I personally don't think it's too great. But it hit me and I had to write it, and of course something possessed me to post it up here for the world to see. xD I hope you guys get the ending, because I wasn't entirely sure if it was too vague or not, hehe.

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His glass wasn't half-full, or half-empty; it was dry, and there was no more drink left to fill it. There never would be, there would never be any type of drink that could fill his glass as much as it had been, nothing could taste that good. Nothing could be worth as much to him as what had previously filled his cup, had it almost spilling. Nothing could ever be that good. He had lost it, spilled it all, and there was no getting it back again.

After all, she was engaged. And he'd be crazy if he thought she was going to give up anyone for him. He wanted the best for her, he really did, but he couldn't help but feel mad, angry, that she was choosing someone else. It was supposed to be him, it was _meant _to be him. But no; she was engaged to someone else, someone who cared for her like he did. Her fiance didn't care enough, he didn't. Eric could tell, but there was nothing for him to say. It wasn't his place to criticize her choises. No, he had to sit back and do what he was supposed to -- support her decision and agree to be at the wedding, agree to be there for her. No matter how much it hurt him. It didn't matter, as long as she was happy.

What hurt most, though, was that he thought he had had a chance. Slim, maybe, but a chance all the same. There was a chance that he could have her, could end up with her. She had sent him the signals, sent him the looks, the smiles that told him, _'this is your chance'._ But there's always something else, something that always ruins the happy ending for him and turns it all into a downward spiral. That was obvious enough; after all, he'd lost everything he'd had before. This should be automatic to him, he should know exactly what to do, be able to see it coming. And yet it was still a surprise, and it still hurt just like every time before. Maybe more. After all, Calleigh was his world. He didn't know what he would do, _could _do, without her.

It was just when he was about to make his move, about to ask her out, tell her how he felt, that he was shoved out of the picture. That he was replaced in her heart, for now and forever. He could never fill the spot that her new fiance did. He wasn't good enough. Somehow, in some way, he wasn't, and he never would be. Maybe he never was, or maybe for a moment he filled that spot perfectly. Maybe more than perfectly. He knew one thing, though, and that was that he would never know.

But she didn't seem to care, and that hit him hard. It was possible that she didn't know, of course, but it appeared more like she didn't _care_. At times she would still send him her flirty looks, but only when her fiance was nowhere to be seen. They would banter as always, but it was obvious that there was some odd tension there when they did; a tension otherwise known as Scott. Her fiance. Eric couldn't help but want to scoff when he heard the name, and he wanted to cringe when he actually saw the person. Calleigh didn't belong with a Scott, especially not _that _Scott. They just didn't... fit. It didn't look right.

Sure, he was tall, good-looking, smart, funny. But he didn't fit in with Calleigh. He didn't like her job, he was constantly worrying in a way that would've annoyed even the most friendly, laid-back person in the world. He was always trying to pull her away from her work, for anything, whether it be to go shopping or to go down the street for a cup of coffee. He was always calling her, checking up on her, no matter what; it was like anytime she was at work, Scott's presence was made known in a way that would drive any other person insane.

No matter what, though, it didn't seem to bother her.

On some level, Eric felt that Calleigh wasn't entirely happy. He felt it, but he wasn't sure. There was no way for him _to_ be sure. Anytime he brought it up, she would insist that Scott was the man of her dreams. Not exactly what Eric wanted to hear, but he dealt with it like he had to. He'd sigh, say "Alright, fine" or something along those lines, and assure her he'd always be there for her.

Even so, Eric wanted her to be there for _him,_ too. He wanted to be able to wake up beside her every morning. He wanted to be able to tell her he loved her and not have to worry about getting shot. He wanted her, but she wanted Scott. And there was no way Eric could ever compete with the man of her dreams, no matter what the circumstances. He just couldn't, he wasn't the best, and Calleigh deserved nothing less than the very, very best.

And though his glass was dry, not even a small drop remaining, he would put on that smile he always did and walk into that lab, give the girl of _his _dreams what she wanted from him and do whatever she wanted. He would pretend like nothing was wrong, because nothing _was _wrong. She was happy, and that was all that mattered. Her cup was overflowing, and that was all he cared about.

But, if he knew, he'd wish that he could tell what was from happiness and what was from her own tears.


End file.
